I’m gonna make you a guarantee–the ten minute guarantee. I want you to picture me in a too-tight blue suit, wearing gaudy sunglasses, holding a cigar in one hand, while gesticulating wildly with the other. ‘Cuz I’m gonna sell you on a ten-minute, guaranteed, proven method of writing…

It only takes ten minutes a day.

Seriously.

Like, for realz.

And now, I must confess. I never want to start writing. My typing is done during my commute. With each bump and turn, I nearly drop my macbook pro. The dude next to me smells of alcohol and body odor. It’s hotter and more humid than a rock concert in an oven. The jostling motion sometimes makes me carsick. And if I’m really lucky, I’ll get to overhear an awkward conversation between a woman and her estranged husband about how he hasn’t paid his child support. Does this not seem like the ideal condition to begin writing?!?!?!

But it only takes ten minutes.

At least that’s what I tell myself. Ten minutes, is all. After ten minutes, I can quit. After ten minutes, I can close my laptop and not worry about my unfinished first draft or my looming edits. After ten minutes, I can put in my earphones, turn up pandora, and drown out the world around me.

In just ten minutes.

Now…would it surprise you if I told you that I almost never write for only ten minutes? Why? Because, 92.7% of the time (yes, I calculated it), it only takes ten minutes before I’m invested–before I want to write. The noise of the barking woman fade, I acclimate to the stench of the alcoholic, and I can ignore the roasting temperature of the bus.

All that’s left, is me and my story.

Have you ever struggled to get started? Do you dread writing your story?

Example: Beef swaggered into the bar. [already we have some idea about his character, do we not?]. Sweat discolored his red bandana, which had faded creases near the seams. His long pony-trail trailed behind, black mingling with streaks of gray. His sleeveless shirt hung loose over his bulbous belly, revealing a skull for a tattoo on his shoulder and a deep scar on the underside of his flabby arms. Smoke lingered in the dark room, but still, Beef wore his shades. Even through his lengthy beard, his frown was still visible.

So what sort of impression do you get of Beef? What do these details tell you about his character? Let’s start at the beginning. The dude swaggers into a bar. Okay, so he’s probably pretty confident. He wears a bandana and has a pony tail and his name is Beef–so maybe he’s a biker dude. But his bandana is discolored with sweat and faded at the seams. Okay…so maybe he’s had it a long time. Or maybe he hasn’t but just doesn’t take care of his stuff. Maybe we could add that he always smells like body odor–now the picture becomes clearer. He’s a man that doesn’t care much for personal hygiene. He’s got a skull for a tattoo, so he’s probably pretty tough (or at least tries to convey he’s tough). He wears shades when he clearly doesn’t need them. So he’s a man more concerned with giving an impression than practicality. Yet he keeps that faded bandana. Interesting–simultaneously caring about the impression he gives off, but also unconcerned with hygiene.

Notice we’re not giving a police sketch of the man (e.g., He’s about 5’9”, 250 lbs with a beard and a ponytail….BORING!). We’re only giving details that give insight into his character. Also notice that we’re not flat-out telling people what he is (Biker Dude)–we’re showing it and letting people form their own impression.

Now let’s break from the stereotype a bit, eh? Let’s keep going with the story: (And I’m totally pantsing this, by the way)

With trembling hands, he reaches for his breast pocket, past his pack of cigarettes and grabs a photograph–a child, no more than three years old, sitting on a plastic tricycle, sporting a black sleeveless shirt, wearing sunglasses and the Spiderman helmut Beef had given him. The child in the image frowns, a mirror image of Beef’s own image. The boy forms two fingers into the universal sign for peace. Beef looked up from the picture and glared at the man in the bar–the boy’s father.

Okay…so what do we have now? Despite the rough and tough exterior, he’s got a soft spot for this kid. Where do you expect the scene to go now? It seems there will be some confrontation (he is glaring at the boy’s father, after all). But notice how the details have kept us guessing–yeah this man is probably capable of doing some damage, but he’s also got a soft spot for what is presumably his grandson.

I remember when I first started novel-writing, I filled out a character sheet for my main players. I couldn’t figure out why in the world I’d need to know what sort of clothes my MC is dressed in, or what their room looks like, or what their most prized possession is. Now I know–these tidbits of information reveal information about your character.

Cate’s sister may be a clone, but that doesn’t make her a killer. Does it? Murder, morality, and a slow-burning romance fill the pages of this futuristic thriller.

When Cate Benson was a kid, her sister, Violet, died. Two hours after the funeral, Cate’s family picked up Violet’s replacement like nothing had happened. Because Cate’s parents are among those who decided to give their children a sort of immortality by cloning them at birth—which means this new Violet has the same face. The same perfect smile. She even has all of the same memories as the girl she replaced.

She also might have murdered the most popular girl in school.

At least, that’s what the paparazzi and the anti-cloning protestors want everyone to think: that clones are violent, unpredictable monsters. Cate is used to hearing all that. She’s used to defending her sister, too. But Violet has vanished, and when Cate sets out to find her, she ends up in the line of fire instead. Because Cate is getting dangerously close to secrets that will rock the foundation of everything she thought was true.

Review

This book was quite a ride. I’ve read a lot of fast-paced action-packed sci-fi lately that, unfortunately, fell flat in the character development area. In said novels, when relationships or lives were in dangers, it was easy to say, “meh….so what?” But here, the author spent the time developing the relationships so they actually meant something when they were in danger. There were several moments that got me (a 30 year old manly manly man) choked up—because the relationships actually mattered to me! (Although, in full disclosure, I do admit that I’ve got a family and tend to become as tender as a filet mignon when familial relationships are involved).

What really drew me to the novel was the layering of mystery upon mystery, plot twist upon plot twist. From probably about 20% through 80%, there was a major twist about every 20 pages or so—the sort that made me laugh with delight (yeah….kinda a strange way to react to a twist). Aside from James Dashner, I don’t know of any other author who can continually sustain such layering of mystery.

And now to Cate, the main character. I was nervous at the beginning. As I said, I’m a 30-year-old manly man who (unfortunately?) cannot quite relate to the plights of teenage girls in high-school. But there was something about Cate—sassy without being angsty, witty while having depth of character. Within a few pages, I was hooked.

So…if you’re looking for unexpected plot twists, characters that pop from the page, relationships that really matter, and exceptional writing, this is it!

Have you ever started packing your bags while sitting comfortably on the flight? How about after you arrive? Perhaps when you come home from your vacation?

Of course not! We pack before we leave.

Yet how many of us “pack our characters’ bags” post-hoc? Or after we’re 40K words in? Did you take half the book to decide your character mumbled to himself? Or that she has a deathly fear of pink orangutangs? Or maybe after we finish, someone says, “Halt, ye prolific penman! I’ve finished your novel and still couldn’t identify your MC out of an occupied phone booth!”

No matter how carefully the plot is woven, the characters need to hold their own. So, here’s four questions to ask of your MC to determine whether they have the necessary travel-gear to carry the plot to its destination:

1. What is my MC’s dominating characteristic? Is she shy? Is he extroverted? Is he insanely curious or a bumbling dolt? All MCs must have a defining characteristic and the more unique, the better!

2. What is the MC good at? (i.e., what are the MC’s resources?) Again, the more unique, the better. Is she strong? Is he good at reading emotions? Is he a talented Bassist? Can she break glass with her voice? Does he (as in Ready Player One) have an uncanny ability to remember obscure 80s references?

3. What is the MC’s weakness? Does she lose her temper? Does he have depression? Is she incapacitated by her fear of cold weather?

4. What does the character want? This, my friends, it what propels the plot forward. It is the character’s driving desire that alters the course of events. In The Maze Runner, it is Thomas’s yearning to figure out what is going on that leads to the trail of breadcrumbs that solves the mystery of the maze.

Let’s do an example. I like to start with #4 because it tends to make it easier to answer the first three. Suppose our MC is John and he really wants (#4) to build a Kite that will fly in the Kite Olympics (though explaining why he wants this always helps deepen character motivation). Alas, John cannot read so well (#3)–he tends to forget the beginning of a sentence by the time he gets to the end, which means he can’t scour the internet for tips and suggestions like his competitors can. But, John can think in multiple dimensions better than anyone else (#2). He can even think in five or six dimensions! Also he’s got the persistence of a toad crossing the Sahara (#1)–not only does he not get discouraged about obstacles, but they actually make him laugh. Now the plot can move forward with the MC at the focus. In the end, John overcomes his inability to read by coming up with a three-dimensional design that revolutionizing kite flying.

Notice how we’ve also made these traits unique. Lots of people can’t read, but John’s reading problem is unique (he forgets the beginning of the sentence before he gets to the end). Also, his strength is very unique (Ronald Fisher aside, can you think of anyone else who can think in 5+ dimensions?). And his persistence too is unique.

I’ll focus on the first three (I’ll actually skip the “personality/character traits” to make things brief). A character yearns for something because of something that happened in the past. Harry Potter wants to defeat Valdemort because the dude killed his parents. Katniss wants to live because her family has already suffered the death of her father. Vin wants to defeat the Lord Ruler because her oppressed her people.

In one of my novels, The Great Ruv (of scribophile fame) said my antagonist wasn’t sufficiently motivated. My antagonist belonged to an evil organization and wanted to extinguish a rebellion because he hates war. Here’s how our conversation went:

Ruv: “Why does he want to avoid war?”

Me: “Umm…because it’s war?”

Ruv: “Not good enough. Why does he want to avoid war?”

Me: “Because war kills people.”

Ruv: “So? Why does your antagonist personally despise war?”

Me: “Because he is one of the few alive who actually has seen war.”

Ruv: “Better. But what has he seen that makes him despise it?”

Me: “The death of friends and family, I suppose.”

Ruv: “But everyone loses friends and family during wartime. Why does your antagonist personally suffer more than others? What about his losses drives him more than it would others who lost friends and family?”

Me: *silence*

It was enlightening. Ruv was absolutely correct–my antagonist wasn’t any different than the millions of others who had lost someone close to them. So here’s what I did (remember this is a war in the future): said antagonist was recruited to work for a think-tank just before the war broke out. His twin brother, on the other hand, was not so lucky. The twin was drafted. As war broke out, my antagonist made a brilliant discovery in genetics. This discovery caught like wildfire, but with disastrous consequences–his research was used to develop biological weapons. One nation used these weapons to kill the antagonist’s twin brother.

Now it’s personal. Akram, more than most, hates war because it killed his twin and it defiled his most important discovery and it used his gift to the world against him.

So…how can you make your characters’ motivations more personal? So Jim wants to stop a terrorist attack. Why? Because people will die. (Not good enough). Because his child goes to daycare at the building where the attack will take place. (Better). Because his child goes to daycare there, and the child just survived a heart transplant. (Even better, but more!) Because Jim’s only child that survived a heart transplant goes to daycare there, and the antagonist is a former combat buddy-gone rogue. (Almost there). Jim’s transplant surviving child will die unless Jim can stop his former combat buddy, using clues about their shared history as intelligence analysts of a branch that no longer exists. (Now we’re talking!)

To create believable, motivated characters, we must alter their backstory such that no other person in the world is as motivated to fill the role they fill.

Alright folks, gameday is coming. The landscape crew has cut the grass in that fansy-pantsy zigzaggedy pattern, the concessions are stocked, and the cleaning crew have mopped up the vomit and spit (though, rest assured, the dried gum remains under the seats). Gameday is coming! Your team? Your cast of characters!

The question is, will your characters make the cut?

First, a little background. I’m a card-carrying (metaphorically speaking) member of the Ubergroup in Scribophile. As part of said Uberness, I often opt for the intense, brutal, butt-kicking, sweat-inducing Beta team. Each week, one novel is put to the test, with 4-6 fellow writers. Within a week, said novel is workshopped–ripped from the author’s bosom, put in a blender of criticism, and chopped and mixed, blended and minced until the author cries Onkel!

As part of this band of snarky scribblers, I noticed a trend–so many secondary characters do not interact with the plot. It’s as if the novelist said, “hmmm….I only have a protagonist and an antagonist. But the last book I read had 200 characters. Okay….I think I’ll just make up a bunch of names and stick them in somewhere. Yeah, that looks good!”

The end result? A cast of cardboard characters that don’t drastically alter the course of the novel. Let’s begin with an example:

Jim is an aspiring middle-finger model. Despite the protest of his mother, Cherie, he moves to Blanchard Prairie, WY (the Hollywood of middle-finger models) and auditions for America’s Got Anger. There he meets Lola Valentine and falls in love. While building a hog trough for his bride-to-be, he accidentally injures his hands when a pig steps on them. Now, he must rethink his aspirations or settle for love.

Let’s think about what characters are essential.

(1) Jim. Yes, since the story is about him.

(2) Cherie? So far, no. Though she protests his aspirations, she doesn’t significantly alter the plot. She could be removed, and the story would remain largely the same. So how do we fix this? We fix it by having characters do things that are essential to the plot. So, rather than Jim losing his hands in an accident, what if his psycho mother does it to him? Now we’re talking. After all, the loss of hands is an important plot point! If we can have a secondary character incite that plot point, then they become essential.

(3) Lola? Meh, not bad, I suppose. But so far, she’s barely making the cut. She’s cardboard. She doesn’t do much other than become a love interest. So how can we make her integral to the plot? Maybe Lola is the daughter of the producer of America’s Got Anger. Jim starts stalking her to get an “in” with the “big dawgs.” But, he ends up falling in love! As his relationship advances, he discovers from this debutante/insider that America’s Got Anger is just a cover for a baby-powder smuggling ring (those fiends!). But as Jim’s relationship progresses, Lola’s father grows a liking to Jim and offers him a seven minutes in the spotlight. It’s what Jim always wanted. Lola says it’s her or his career. Now, Jim must choose between love and morals, or between fame and villainy!

Now what would happen if Lola was removed? Well, Jim wouldn’t have an “in” to America’s Got Anger. He wouldn’t learn of the smuggling ring and he wouldn’t have injured his hand (because he wouldn’t have been making a hog trough). Basically, without Lola, the plot crumbles (or at least it does now).

So….here’s some questions/suggestions about secondary characters:

(1) How would the plot change if I removed this person?

(2) How can I make this person’s role more integral to the plot?

(3) Are some characters pulling more weight than they should?

(4) Should one of my secondary characters do something that someone else is doing?

(5) Is there some plot element you can add that is resolved (or complicated) by a secondary character, that only that secondary character can fill?

Think about some of your own favorite novels. How have secondary characters played major roles?

Examples:

(1) Dobby was a secondary character, but ended up saving Harry Potter’s life in the end.

(2) Rue was a secondary character in Hunger Games, but became the MC’s ally, saving her life, and Rue’s death gave Katniss purpose that propelled her into the second book.

(3) Bean was a secondary character in Ender’s Game, but he gave Ender the idea on how to defeat the buggers. (And subsequently, he got his own series!)

So now, go back to your novels and ask that question–how are my secondary characters interacting with the plot? Are they significant enough that I can’t remove them?